Documentary "A Corps perdu" (In a Body Lost) - Di Meco, Trémoulinas, Rodriguez...: they bear witness to the extreme sacrifices for sport

The documentary by the L'Équipe channel gives the floor to high-level athletes, including former Bordeaux player Trémoulinas, who put their health at risk for their careers.

The image is poignant. On May 13, 2023, Bruno Rodriguez, limping but smiling, steps onto the Parc des Princes pitch. His Bermuda shorts hide nothing of the prosthesis replacing his leg, amputated above the knee. A hearty embrace for Lionel Messi and the former Corsican striker, notably from Metz and Paris, kicks off the Ligue 1 match between PSG and AC Ajaccio. His wife and daughter, pitchside, savor a rare moment of happiness in the midst of months of hell, until the decision to amputate was made in an attempt to ease the unbearable pain caused by an ankle badly damaged on Ligue 1 pitches.

This extreme case was the trigger for the documentary "À corps perdu," directed by Jules Bian-Rosa and Sébastien Tarrago, broadcast this Tuesday, May 20 at 9:05 p.m. on L'Équipe and already available for streaming. The central question of the documentary, simple on paper, is much more complex for those who have been confronted with it in reality: to what extent is a top-level athlete willing to put their health at risk to achieve the career of their dreams?

"I had Bruno Rodriguez's story, obviously touching and terrible, in mind. Every time I met a retired athlete, I asked him the question and almost systematically, he told me things about himself or his friends," explains Sébastien Tarrago.

So, it was after a padel match that former Girondins de Bordeaux left-back Benoît Trémoulinas – now a consultant for the L'Équipe channel – told him about his three years of struggle with a knee worn down to the bone, his cartilage "eaten away" by multiple injections, at FC Séville. He finally managed to find the medical solution that allows him to continue regular physical activity today. But, as he recounts in the documentary, he still regrets having to end his career at 30 with the feeling of still having to give.

Another international left-back, Éric di Meco had the chance to win the first, and so far only, Champions League for a French club with Marseille, in 1993. But at what cost? His story is astonishing: he appeared on the pitch for the final in Munich with a bandage around his right knee so tight that he could no longer feel his calf after thirty minutes of play. And for good reason: he was playing despite... a torn cruciate ligament. He returned to competition just four months after the inevitable operation, a much too short time, the after-effects of which he is still suffering today.

Thirty-two years later, he considers himself "on the verge of motor disability," forced to give up his job as a commentator on RMC Sport because he was unable to bear the pain caused by prolonged walking. And if he can still play bass with his rock band, it's by stuffing himself with anti-inflammatories. "If my grandson goes near the pool, or crosses the road, I'm not sure I'll be able to catch him," he says. "And that's hard to accept."

Di Meco "on the verge of motor disability"

In contrast, Bixente Lizarazu refused Bayern Munich's pressure to play in the 1999 Champions League final against Manchester United after also suffering a knee injury. But it took the Basque's strength of character and intelligence—and a world championship title already secured—to weigh his future health against immediate glory.

The documentary is deliberately constructed as a series of testimonies without institutional counterpoint. Former Stade Français ^third row Antoine Burban recounts the terrible consequences on his family life of having suppressed a dozen concussions. We shudder at the images of the broken face of promising Reims goalkeeper Florent Duparchy from a training collision. But the real injury is hidden, this concussion that no one repaired and which forced him to end his career at 24 with no guarantees for the future.

The story of AG2R la Mondiale team rider Clément Chevrier is instructive, in a different way. When his team asked him to lose weight to "get over the passes," he embarked on the path to anorexia, losing weight from 70 to 45 kg. Until the French Cycling Federation made the issuance of his license conditional on weight gain...

So many painful examples that highlight the internal and external pressure on elite athletes. None of the witnesses in "À corps perdu" shirk their own responsibility. But the weighty question of safeguards, the responsibility of coaches and entourages, is raised. And the difficult transition from light to shadow, too often with lost bodies and damaged lives.